


as a storm (it sweeps clean all of my tears)

by virdant



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Jedi Appreciation (Star Wars), Jedi Culture & Tradition (Star Wars), Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Meditation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28315194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virdant/pseuds/virdant
Summary: There is a grief that sweeps through her, like storm clouds over the ocean.Bultar Swan, Plo Koon, and the aftermath of Micah Giett's death.
Relationships: Bultar Swan & Micah Giiett, Bultar Swan & Plo Koon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	as a storm (it sweeps clean all of my tears)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Augustine94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augustine94/gifts).



> for augustine, who told me about plo and micah and i have not been able to stop thinking about them since then.
> 
> \--
> 
> title is inspired by jess lee's 大火 (burn)

There is a grief that sweeps through her, like storm clouds over the ocean.

Bultar sits in the cross-legged position she learned as a youngling. She presses her hands, palms up, against her knees. Her eyes are closed. She can feel the grief, a wellspring that has no end. She can see it, dark clouds blanketing her vision.

Master Micah is dead.

She felt it, the sharp tug, the light snuffing out, like a candle blown out. He had always shone: not flickering like a flame, but the steady warmth of a lamp. He had taught her how to fight, honed her like a blade. She is shaped by his teaching.

He is dead.

He taught her this: to blow the clouds away. But she blows and blows, and her breath catches in her throat, her chest tight, and she cannot draw enough breath to sweep them away. Instead, the clouds come: again and again, over and over.

“Inhale,” Master Plo’s voice rumbles, in her ear.

She breathes, in.

Master Micah is dead.

“We do not part in sorrow,” he says, and the words are familiar. _I did not let us part in sorrow_ , he does not say. He does not talk of duty, because Bultar knows that Master Micah knew duty. He does not talk of strength, of sacrifice, of all of the tenants that the Jedi know and swear by. He does not say any of that.

Instead, he says, “Inhale, Padawan.”

Bultar breathes, in.

“We do not part in sorrow,” he echoes. They are one with the Force. And Master Micah lives on: in the teachings he passed to her, in the stories he shared with Master Plo, in the thousands of lives he touched. “We live.”

Bultar exhales.

“Let his death not be sorrowful,” Master Plo says. “Let his death bring peace and light.” His voice is not tight with grief, it is not easy with forgetting. It is the voice of one who grieves and accepts, and lives not with sorrow, but with the light. “Now, Padawan. Breathe.”

When she exhales, the wind blows, strong and steady. Above the sea, the storm clouds stop and turn, sweeping aside for the Light.

Master Micah is dead, but Bultar Swan lives, and with her, he lives on as well.

**Author's Note:**

> \--
> 
> here's how you can find me.
> 
>   * asian jedi agenda, my new writing discord (pls ask for link)
>   * Follow me on twitter [@virdant](http://www.twitter.com/virdant/)
>   * Comment and kudo below
> 



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